Burning Rain
by wearingrosecoloredglasses
Summary: Rose and Scorpius – those two names weren't meant to be said together. The thought of those two names following each other forever was comical, and not in a Lucy and Ricky way. This wasn't supposed to happen. Seven years later, after last OWLs, after graduation, after goodbyes to the home we grew up in, it's almost impossible to extricate our names.


**Authors Note:** This is my first published story in four years, so I've been out of the game for a little while. This story is complete, but the resolution remains to be discovered. Thank you for reading - Anon

* * *

Rose POV:

Rose and Scorpius is an oxymoron, like icy fire, or burning rain. That's what it felt like to be in love with Scorpius Malfoy. It felt like burning rain with no respite, no umbrella to duck under.

Rose and Scorpius – those two names weren't meant to be said together. The thought of those two names following each other forever was comical, and not in a Lucy and Ricky way. This wasn't supposed to happen. Seven years later, after last OWLs, after graduation, after goodbyes to the home we grew up in, it's almost impossible to extricate our names. It's always been Scorpius and Rose - despite the icy fire, despite the burning rain.

 _"You're my girl. It's always going to be Rose and Scorpius. I'll come back for you Rosie, I promise. I promise I will come back to love you."_

I close my eyes and let myself think about that moment so long ago. You clutched my face so hard I thought you would break me with your palms. You pressed your forehead against mine and swore to Merlin and back that you would never forget about me, that this was only temporary.

 _"This is just a shit situation … this was the hand we were dealt with Rose. We need to face it."_

You said this like it was a fucking prophecy, and I had no choice but to let you go. You were offered an Auror apprenticeship in America while I was forced to go back home jobless and anxious about my future. I was only anxious because I wanted to impress your family and show that the child of the Golden Couple could play with fire. I wanted to show them that I deserved their son. Pathetic isn't it? I became obsessed with protecting your legacy that it became my career.

"Scorp, we can do this. Yes, this is the hand we were dealt with but we have control over this babe. I think we can make this work."

"We're going to tear each other apart; don't you see? We won't make it a few months without getting upset. I just want to preserve what we have right now. I want to remember you like this." He said.

As a blubbering, mascara drenched ginger? I thought to myself.

"But I don't understand … we're still in love, there's nothing keeping us from loving each other, even oceans can't change that. Why are we letting this destroy what we have?"

"I don't have anything else to say Rose. This is the hand we were dealt. I'm trying to save us can't you see that?" He mutters underneath his breath. No, I couldn't see what was happening. I couldn't comprehend a life without Scorpius.

And that was that. He kissed the top of my forehead softly so as not to break what was left of me, and then he walked away crying. That's what I still don't understand, how do people walk away from good things? I've never done that before. You don't see me walking away from a burger, or from Disneyland passes. I'd cry too if I had to walk away from Disneyland passes. But Scorpius walked away like a soldier walking away from his crying wife begging him to not go back to war, like he was on a mission he needed to complete.

He left me in the rain.

The sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard bring me out of my daze. This is my job now. I'm a journalist for the Daily Prophet and ever since they phased out typewriters, the building echoes of _tap tap tap_ instead of the soothing _click click click_ of a typewriter. Muggles were smart to build these thinking machines, but I can't help but miss the relationship between paper and author. Pressure to impress a piece of parchment. Maybe I have impressing issues.

It's been months since Scorpius left for America, and I haven't heard a word since that day. Just a few happy birthday owls, but nothing past formalized niceties that a co-worker and boss would exchange.

I have three deadlines before noon which is typical for my column. I write a 500-word column on local issues, pretty crime or the opening of a new mall. They can't seem to find a spot for me on the national stage but my boss is always dangling the opportunity in front of my face.

I power down my computer a quarter past noon and head out the building for fresh air. I need it. I also need a drink.

The _tap tap tap_ of keyboards match the _tap tap tap_ of my heels.

"I always hated it when you wore heels." A cool voice says behind me.

My shoulders tensed. I knew who it was, I knew he would come back home, I even knew that it was around this time. I didn't want to turn around because didn't want to shatter the illusion of the little world I created in which I moved on and I became really successful and I didn't need Scorpius Fucking Malfoy anymore.

I turned around.

"It's you."

"It is me." He smiles.

"When did you get back?" I grabbed my left wrist and cocked my head trying to look casual. I can feel myself failing miserably.

"I got back a few days ago, it's taking me a while to settle in. I would have called sooner it's just been really hectic."

He adds the last part hurriedly which seems silly to me. Out of all the things he feels sorry about, it's not contacting his ex-girlfriend fast enough. I wonder if he realizes how much more I need him to apologize for.

"Yeah no of course …" I trail off hoping the floor would swallow me up. I know everyone says that in books and movies but this time I _really_ wish the floor would swallow me. Maybe there's a spell to make quicksand appear.

"Can I maybe take you out for coffee?" He asks.

"You don't drink coffee."

"I started to in America, they have this thing called 'Dunkin Donuts,' and Americans swear by their iced coffee. 'America Runs on Dunkin' apparently."

He laughs at his feet and looks off to the side. I want to punch his jawline. I also want to kiss it.

"Seems bizarre, but sure coffee sounds good."

We silently walk out of the building shoulder to shoulder. I'm afraid to touch him, even on accident. If I touch him, I don't think I would need a spell for quicksand to turn me into jell-o.

I hold my breath and I pray to the gods that he says something first.

"So … how's the new job?"

This mundane conversation lasts for at least 30 minutes. We can't seem to talk about what happened to us. There's isn't a guideline on how to talk to the boy who broke your heart. If there even is a guideline, I'm sure it's just to speak under extreme inebriation. It's not like when you get dumped cupid hands you a road to recovery.

There isn't anything else to say. We ran out of safe topics to talk about. I'm sure he's wishing for it to start raining, just so he can comment on the change of wind.

He clears his throat. "Have you thought about us at all?"

"I didn't have a chance to think about it the first time, did I." I snapped at him. I couldn't help it. After all this time, I had so much to say.

"Jesus Christ Rose here we go again."

He takes a sip of his coffee and looks out the window. He's probably wishing for the floor to swallow him up now.

"You gave me no chance to fight for us, Scorpius. You just put your fist down and said 'this is what is best' without giving me a say in any of this."

"Rose that's just – "

"And if you did mean all those nice things that you said, that you would still love me, that you would still care about me, that you wanted me back in a year where the fuck were the messages or anything to let me know that you're alive goddamit. You haven't spoken to me."

"Because I didn't know if you wanted to talk to me!"

"Of course I wanted you to talk to me I fucking tried having normal conversations with you but you weren't yourself, I couldn't stand losing you but what killed me was the fact that you wanted to lose me."

He froze. It was so silent, I felt like everyone was staring at us. They probably were. So what's with the floor not being quicksand again?

"That's not fair. Don't fucking say that."

I let the silence sit with us for a few more minutes. I stared down at my mug, with my half-filled latte. I could feel him staring out the window.

"You're right," I whispered so softly it matched the silence. "This wouldn't have worked out. I just wish that we waited until we really knew for sure before we ended things." I took a deep breath. "You did this so we wouldn't hate each other but all it did was make me hate myself, and in turn, I despise you for making me feel this way."

"So is this it?"

"Do you want this to be it?" I responded.

He stops staring out the window to look at his hands. Those hands that cup my face when I cry, those hands that moved across my body like it was swearing an oath on the Bible.

Like we're in a movie, it starts to rain. He looks out the window again. I take my first real look at him. He looks different. He looks skinnier, a little cleaner shaven. He looks comfortable in a suit.

I close my eyes for a second and envision a world where he doesn't give me a chance to speak again. Where he takes my hand, pulls me close and tells me that I'm his girl and he never stopped loving me.

That world seems so far.

* * *

 _Rose and Scorpius is an oxymoron, like icy fire, or burning rain. That's what it felt like to be in love with Scorpius Malfoy. It felt like burning rain with no respite, no umbrella to duck under._


End file.
